Mirror of Justice

A blog dedicated to the development of Catholic legal theory.
Affiliated with the Program on Church, State & Society at Notre Dame Law School.

Wednesday, November 9, 2005

Lee on Catholic Legal Education

Ave Maria law prof Kevin Lee offers his typically thoughtful take on Catholic legal education, based on a talk he gave at Notre Dame this fall.  Here's his conclusion:

The nature of the relationship between nature and grace, and thereby faith and natural reason, is central to the project of Catholic thinking about law. It always has been, from St. Augustine’s metaphor of the Christian as pilgrim in a hostile land, to Gregory VII’s assertion to Gelasius I’s two sword thesis, to St. Thomas’s treatise on law, the recurring question is what is the right relation of grace and nature. This cannot be answered as a Catholic without understanding the meaning of the reign of Christ. A question, wryly asked by Jaroslav Pelican in the opening of his book, Jesus Through the Ages, is whether it is possible to imagine human history without Christ. What would be left, he asks, if it were possible to draw out all references to Christ from human history, as if with some giant magnet. What would be lost? Would the Catholic intellectual heritage still maintain what is most significant and meaningful in it? That is to say, can Catholic legal education be both intellectual and Catholic without Christ? What does the Christian claim of the Lordship of Christ mean for the Catholic legal theorist today? Is it merely a platitude or an eschatological aspiration? Or does Christ’s Lordship have an earthly political meaning that is in some way necessary to rightly understand the idea of the Rule of Law? And, for those who would argue that these questions are simply conservative and orthodox, to them the burden falls of showing how can such questions can be answered without turning to theological thinking about the nature of the relationship between Christ and modern culture. Is not the assertion that Christ is irrelevant to Catholic legal education itself a theological claim?

Rob

Balkin on the Politics of Roe

Yale law prof Jack Balkin gave an interview to PBS for the Frontline special on abortion.  Here's an excerpt:

Everybody now understands that between the two major political parties, the Republican Party is more pro-life, and there are many more pro-life people in the Republican Party. And yet the Republican Party and Republican politicians, including President Bush, really don't want to see Roe v. Wade overturned. They'd like to see it narrowed. They'd like to see it made practically irrelevant in American life, but they don't want to overturn it.

Why is that? It's because American political parties are coalitions of people of very different views. The Republican coalition consists of business conservatives, suburbanites, women who are in suburbs and rural areas, libertarians who believe that the government should stay out of people's private lives, and religious and social conservatives. As long as the right to abortion is more or less protected in the United States, a lot of those people can happily stay in the Republican coalition. Libertarians can stay. Business conservatives can stay. Suburban women and rural women can stay, because they figure, basically, you can get an abortion if you need to; if you can scrape the money together, you can get an abortion.

On the other hand, if Roe v. Wade is overturned, then everything is on the table, including criminalization of abortion. And at that point, libertarians, business conservatives and lots of suburban and rural women and women in urban areas, too, will say to themselves, "I'm not sure I want to be in a party that supports criminalizing abortion." At that point, they will find the Democratic Party more attractive. And not all that many people have to bolt the Republican Party for them to lose control of Congress and the presidency, just a relatively small number. And the Republicans understand that. That's why the Republican strategy is to narrow Roe, cut back at it, weed away at it, but never officially overrule it. . . .

Assuming Balkin's perspective is accurate, can a Catholic who believes that Republican political success on a whole range of issues is more in keeping with the moral anthropology than the Democratic alternatives embrace this strategy?  If there were a choice between nominating Justice X who will vote to overrule Roe and Justice Y who will vote to narrow it but never to overrule it (and their views and qualifications are otherwise equivalent), can a faithful Catholic favor the latter given the collateral political considerations?

Rob

Tuesday, November 8, 2005

The Polis and the Natural Law

Today, at Notre Dame's workshop series, my colleague in the Architecture Department, Philip Bess, gave a fascinating presentation, "The Polis and the Natural Law:  The Moral Authority of the Urban Transect."  Although my wife, Nicole Stelle Garnett, is the property guru in our house, I have a longstanding interest in -- or maybe a wary attraction to -- the "New Urbanism".  (Or, maybe just "urbanism."  After all, I'm not sure Jane Jacobs needs updating.)  And, we have had many discussions on cities, suburbs, planning, and religion here at Mirror of Justice.  (For example, here, here, and here).

Bess pushed a few buttons by taking the urbanism / smart-growth discussion beyond aesthetics (e.g., "Annapolis looks nicer than Tyson's Corner") and NIMBY-ism, and pulling out the big natural-law-morality guns.  Here's his introduction:

The Aristotelian-Thomist intellectual tradition’s understanding of natural law---which is the broad pre-modern tradition of western culture---is that there are certain foundational principles of morality that are (according to Thomas Aquinas) “the same for all, both as to knowledge and to rectitude”---in other words, principles of morality that are not only right for all human beings but knowable (and at some level known) to all human beings. These foundational principles of morality, along with their first few rings of implications, are known as the natural law.

The Urban Transect refers to that range of human habitats conducive to human flourishing within which human settlements are part of a sustainable (albeit not necessarily locally bio-diverse) eco-system. These habitats, diagrammatically depicted as Transect-zones (“Tzones”), range from less dense human settlements to more dense human settlements; but each urban T-zone denotes a walkable and mixed-use human environment wherein within each urban zone many if not most of the necessities and activities of daily life are within a five-to-ten-minute walk for persons of all ages and economic classes.

It is the thesis of this paper that, given this understanding and characterization of both natural law and the Urban Transect, the proposition “Human beings should make settlements in accordance with the Urban Transect” is generally valid for all human beings in all times and places---and therefore constitutes a natural law precept. If this is true, such a precept would be binding in conscience for---and acted upon with prudential judgment by---all persons who act in accordance with right (practical) reason; and especially for and by persons who understand themselves to be a part of the Aristotelian-Thomist intellectual tradition.

I am inclined to agree with many of the claims associated with this "tradition":  It seems to me that it is meaningful to talk about "human flourishing," and also that there are some ways of arranging "settlements" that are more (or less) conducive to that flourishing.  And, I suppose that governments ought to enact policies and facilitate developments that are conducive to, or consonant with, good arrangements, not bad.  On the other hand, I hesitate a bit about "baptizing" what might be seen by some as just the latest development fad.

So, what do people think?  The claim is (obviously) not that people who live in urban areas (or walkable sub-urban areas) are "better" or more moral than those who live in "sprawl."  It is, though, that there is some strong "ought-ness" behind the claim that our "settlements" should be structured and arranged in a particular way.

Catholic law schools:more thoughts

I very much appreciate the comments of Amy and Father Araujo. My earlier thoughts very much reflect my current situation--where I have been blessed to be in a position with my colleagues here at Ave Maria to help build a Catholic law school from scratch. I certainly admit that others are in very different situations and that some of the things we do here are not realistic options.

I agree with almost everything Amy said. I don't think there is one model for Catholic law schools. I think that Father Araujo is correct, though, that we should think about an essence that might help us to identify when it would be appropriate to consider a school to be Catholic. For example, I know of one law school affiliated with a Catholic university that a few years ago had only one Catholic on its faculty. That school might do a lot of wonderful things. It might express a deeply rooted sense of tolerance and create space for the religious expression of its diverse student body. Yet, I don't know how a school like that could conceivably claim to be Catholic. How could that school give institutional expression to having a Catholic community, and to satisfying the other characteristics Amy quoted from Ex Corde.

A student should be able to encounter a Catholic community and to observe the witness of many Catholic scholars who are trying to integrate faith and reason. I don't know how this can be said to exist if the school has only one Catholic on its faculty or only a very few. A school with only one Catholic on its faculty might be doing much good, but it is hard to imagine that we should think of it as Catholic. As I mentioned before, Princeton is not a Catholic institution simply because Robby George is on the Politics faculty there. The Catholic label must say something about an institutional embodiment of the characteristics noted in Ex Corde, even if that embodiment might be given different expressions in different times and places.

Richard            

   

Catholic Law Schools: Models and Essence

Amy and Richard have been most helpful in developing issues about Catholic law schools. Surely we must look at Ex Corde Ecclesiae, but I also think Fides et Ratio is an important text to consider. I also believe that the CDF’s document on Catholics in Political Life is relevant to our discussion on defining what is essential to Catholic legal education. A number of Conciliar texts including Lumen Gentium and Gaudium et Spes also play an important role in the investigation and discussion. This list is not intended to be exclusive one, simply an identification of some relevant Church documents that have a bearing on the matter. Amy raises the interesting and important point about whether we should consider identifying a variety of models rather than determining the “best” model of Catholic legal education. I am not sure that identifying and discussing models, however, is the right question. I assume that there are different models for Catholic law schools. To aid the discussion, MOJ readers may wish to look at John J. Fitzgerald’s helpful article in the October 2002 issue of Crisis magazine on this point. He examines several schools: Ave Maria, Saint Thomas (Minnesota), Catholic University of America, Notre Dame, Boston College, and Georgetown. [Here]  Do these models really help us understand what makes a law school a Catholic law school? There may well be a variety of models to consider, but is there something at the essence of the institution which says: here is a Catholic law school. Surely curriculum, perspectives, the identity of teachers and students, speakers, publications, sponsored or recognized student organizations, and other issues are at play. It could also be that different models contain this essence. But, when all is said, are there essential characteristics at the heart—perhaps the soul—of the institution which determines whether it is a Catholic law school or not? If that is the right question, I look forward to participating in developing a response with MOJ friends.  RJA sj

Catholic Law Schools: Response to Richard

Thank you, Richard.  A few thoughts to continue our conversation on Patricia Levefere’s National Catholic Reporter piece on Catholicism and Teaching Law.

I’m going to back Tom Shaffer – I think that both Ex Corde and the “religious lawyering” movements are expressions of something broader and deeper—a “sign of the times” that we need a deeper integration, a deeper unity, between the life of the soul, the human spirit, intellectual endeavors, and professional life. Because I see the project as much vaster, I think the jury’s still out on whether it will succeed.

Nonetheless, I agree that Ex Corde is a good text to work with for discussions about Catholic identity.  No.13 sets out these criteria: “Every Catholic University, as Catholic, must have the following essential characteristics”:

1. a Christian inspiration not only of individuals but of the university community as such;

2. a continuing reflection in the light of the Catholic faith upon the growing treasury of human

knowledge, to which it seeks to contribute by its own research;

3. fidelity to the Christian message as it comes to us through the Church;

4. an institutional commitment to the service of the people of God and of the human family in their

pilgrimage to the transcendent goal which gives meaning to life"

What might this mean for Catholic law schools?  I think these criteria can point in a variety of directions.  For example, in accord with (3) – one might say that no Catholic law school should be without a vehicle for advocacy against the death penalty, in accord with recent clarifications in the catechism.  Or in accord with (4) no Catholic law school should be without a clinic or other concrete manifestations of service to the poor – that’s absolutely essential.

I agree with Richard that the example of professors is important – but I think the question of whether liturgy or practices such as Eucharist adoration should be a focal point depends greatly on the make-up of the student body.  For example, reading no. 39: “When the academic community includes members of other Churches, ecclesial communities or religions, their initiatives for reflection and prayer in accordance with their own beliefs are to be respected.”  On this basis, one could also say that at least in certain regions, it is essential for a Catholic university to have respectful space for prayer for Jews and/or Muslims.

I guess what I’m really getting at is that especially at schools that have been around for more than ten years, we are working with a variety of histories, cultural contexts, student populations, and social commitments.  For this reason, we will be drawing out a variety of applications.  I believe Ex Corde leaves plenty of room for the art of discerning how to be a Catholic law school in any given context. 

This is not an exact analogy, but I think the reflections on ecumenism in John Paul II’s Crossing the Threshhold of Hope are a helpful literary key.  In response to the question of why the Holy Spirit permitted so many divisions within the Church, John Paul II draws out the “more positive answer”: “Could it not be that these divisions have also been a path continually leading the Church to discover the untold wealth contained in Christ’s Gospel and in the redemption accomplished by Christ?  Perhaps all this wealth would not have come to light otherwise. . . . It is necessary for humanity to achieve unity through plurality, to learn to come together in the one Church, even while presenting a plurality of ways of thinking and acting, or cultures and civilizations.”  (p.153).

Could we not say, in something of an analogy, the law schools that are at this point working with the reality of incredibly diverse faculties and student bodies have the opportunity to develop distinct gifts and examples for Catholic legal education?  For example, I think one of the most important gifts we can give students in New York is the example – even “witness” – of how Catholics can be in respectful and open dialogue with people of other religions and cultures, and in that context to reflect on how the Catholic intellectual tradition might shed light on the various problems they will face in practice.  (See Ex Corde no. 37. “In its service to society, a Catholic University will relate especially to the academic, cultural and scientific world of the region in which it is located.”).

Or to back up for a second to a broader question: does anyone disagree that there should be a variety of models for Catholic legal education?  At times I feel like we get stuck in attempts to delineate the “best” model—or to highlight certain “baselines” that may work at a school being built up from scratch, but would be unrealistic in schools with more complex histories on their shoulders.  If we agree on this, then I’d like to push the point that variety is a good thing.  Working with John Paul II’s ecumenism analogy, it is a vehicle for putting into relief “wealth which would have not come to light otherwise….”  And in this spirit of respect for variety, we can actually learn from each other and recognize that different schools will contribute to the conversation in different ways.

Thoughts? 

Amy

Monday, November 7, 2005

Moral Quietism, in Response to Richard and Rick

In accusing Justice Scalia (along with Andrew Sullivan) of "moral quietism,"  I meant to be mischievously provocative (in Justice Scalia's own grand tradition).  I certainly don't believe that he would want the Church's shepherds (a) to be silent in all cases involving moral questions.  And I don't even believe that he would want the Church's shepherds (b) to be silent in all cases involving moral questions where it has moral propositions to advance that are unpopular but it is not willing yet to label those moral truths as fundamental and non-negotiable.  However, (b) is precisely what he argued concerning the death penalty.  He did not argue just that the Church shouldn't make opposition to the death penalty a non-negotiable teaching; that would be a quite defensible argument.  Rather, he argued that if it is not a non-negotiable teaching, then the Church should not advance it as a moral teaching at all, and beckon Catholics to follow it, if it would be unpopular and Catholic officials following it would have trouble getting elected as a result.

My problems with this position are two-fold.  First, I can't imagine that Justice Scalia (or anyone else) would consistently apply it.  There are lots of moral issues on which the Church has something to say that is morally important and valuable, and on which both Catholics and their fellow citizens ought to be challenged, but that doesn't rise to the level of non-negotiable teaching.  And after all, the permissibility of the state taking life as a penalty is a far more basic moral question than whether section 106 of the Something or Other Act ought to have a cost-benefit standard or a best-available-technology standard -- the kind of question on which the Church can indeed exceed its competence and call its moral seriousness into question by crying wolf too much.  For these reasons, I don't think that Richard's and Rick's worries about the absolutizing of mere "policy positions" are implicated by the Church taking a basic moral stand against the death penalty.

This, it seems to me, is the fundamental flaw in Justice Scalia's argument.  It looks to be premised on there being two rigid categories of moral-political questions:  a few non-negotiable ones, on which the Church's leaders should advance the Church's beliefs zealously, and others, on which the Church's leaders should stay quiet as a matter of prudence (meaning "caution") if the moral position that they are convinced follows from the faith is unpopular.  Stated in that way, the position may seem like a caricature, but I think that has to be the logic underlying Justice Scalia's position that the Pope and bishops should not be setting forth opposition to the death penalty.  The question of how fundamental are various moral teachings in Catholic thought surely must be more nuanced than this.  BY THE WAY:  This is a good juncture at which to suggest that our April 2006 conference at St. Thomas on "Public Policy, Prudential Judgment, and the Catholic Social Tradition" will be a great opportunity to explore these issues, and to encourage the submission of academic paper proposals for that conference.

Moreover, in response to both Richard and Rick, I would hope that the Church would be able to explain to people that -- as with any other sophisticated moral outlook on the world -- Catholic moral reasoning does not just consist in a few rigidly binding principles with everything else morally up for grabs.  If people can't or won't understand that fact about Catholic moral reasoning, then the prospects for the Church's contributions to American public life really are quite dim.

ONE SUPPLEMENTAL THOUGHT:  If there is a prudential concern that pushing Catholic officials toward flatly opposing the death penalty may make them unelectable, there is also a prudential argument that cuts the other direction.  Susan Stabile mentions it at the end of her piece on abortion and John Courtney Murray's thought.  Opposition to the death penalty as part of a "consistent ethic of life" may increase the Church's credibility with many Americans on life issues such as abortion and euthanasia: it may convince people, for example, that the anti-abortion position is not rooted in a desire to confine women only to traditional roles.  Of course for a lot of people this "consistency" won't change their views -- and I don't mean to reopen the general debate on the advisability of a "consistent ethic of life" -- but one should weigh in the potential that a "consistent life" position can bolster the Church's moral credibility among moderate Americans of good faith.

Tom

Where Ought Christians, Including Catholics, to Stand on This?

The New York Review of Books
November 17, 2005

CRIME & PUNISHMENT   

By John Harding, Reply by Hilary Mantel           

In response to The Right to Life* (May 12, 2005)          

To the Editors:

I read Hilary Mantel's penetrating review of Sister Helen Prejean's book, The Death of Innocents [NYR, May 12], the night before conducting an oral hearing of a life-sentence prisoner in a prison in the west of England. The man, now aged forty-six, had committed a gruesome murder of his next-door neighbor's wife, masturbating himself once the woman was dead. He was twenty-two at the time, deep in drink and self-loathing, nursing anger at his own violent upbringing at the hands of a sexually abusive father.

Now, twenty-four years later, having completed a range of challenging courses, including a sex offender treatment program, discipline, psychology, and probation staff in the prison have written a series of positive reports, recommending that he is ready to move to open prison, in preparation, maybe, two years down the line, for release on life license under probation supervision.

He is not exceptional. Each year in England and Wales some two hundred lifers are released after the tariff or punishment period of their sentence, set by a judge, has expired. At the end of the tariff period, their cases are reviewed every two years by a parole board, consisting of a judge, a psychiatrist, and an independent member, at an oral hearing to test whether they can be safely transferred from secure to open prison and from open to the community under license. The test for release is whether the prisoner still represents a risk to life and limb.

In England and Wales there are approximately five thousand lifers in prison, most of whom will be released under license; there are less than thirty lifers in the system serving a whole-life tariff. By contrast, in the United States, one in four of the 130,000 lifers in state prisons or federal institutions are serving life without the prospect of parole. The reason for this appears to be not more crime in the United States but the result of longer mandatory sentences and a more restrictive parole policy.

The irony is that most released lifers do well, get jobs, settle down with a new partner, and stay out of trouble. Why? Most have matured over a period of ten to twenty years in prison, have got themselves an education, taken responsibility for their past including the devastating impact of their homicidal behavior on the victim and his family, and are acutely aware that one false move could lead to a return to prison. Less than 2 percent of the released group commit a grave offense after release.

Containment is not enough. Whilst the truly dangerous will always need to be locked up, perhaps for a lifetime, the majority of lifers have the capacity, given the opportunity by a legislature and an informed public, to mature, face the consequences of their past, and start to lead responsible lives once more. Is Europe, or indeed England and Wales, so different in respect of what we do about the ultimate crime and punishment that we cannot learn from each other?

John Harding
Parole Board Member for England and Wales
Visiting Professor in Criminal Justice  Studies, Hertfordshire University
Winchester, England

Hilary Mantel replies:

I'm indebted to John Harding for widening the terms of the debate. "Lock 'em up and throw away the key" doesn't amount to a penal policy, and it's dismaying to find US advocates of the abolition of capital punishment—even those who are as compassionate and informed as Sister Helen Prejean—offering the prospect of whole-life imprisonment as a kind of consolation prize to a worried public. I concede that the prospect of killers being released to kill again is terrifying, and that there will always be some prisoners who, in any jurisdiction, must never be released. But what should concern the public more immediately is that basic defects in the criminal justice system have been revealed by close examination of capital cases. Again and again, the mechanism for establishing the facts of a case is shown to be flawed. If this is true for cases where the death penalty is demanded, it is likely to be true for all homicide cases; and for lesser cases as well?

On the question of whole-life sentences, the figures John Harding quotes speak for themselves. Surely, there are very few human beings wholly incapable of redemption? At least, it seems the mark of a civilized society to think there are not. How, except by inhuman rigor, do you contain a prisoner who has no hope? What does a prison look and feel like, if it has abandoned the function of rehabilitation and is devoted only to shutting away people who are regarded as dangerous animals?

I felt tempted to add into my original review a passage which said, "there is another way of doing things," and of course it's the way that John Harding describes. But I didn't want to divert from the main topic, or sound like a smug Brit. After all, there's plenty wrong with our penal system, and we are not immune to pressure from "public opinion" whipped up by tabloid newspapers. But our judges and lawyers are not dependent on people-pleasing to keep their jobs; they don't have to run for election and satisfy the ill-informed knee-jerk retributionists. It's all a bit of a puzzle for democrats, I think.

Subsidiarity and a "Color-Blind" Society

The ongoing riots in France seem to carry lessons for our understanding of cultural pluralism and subsidiarity.  An article in today's London Times notes that:

Under the ethnically colour-blind “French model”, the immigrant workers who came in the 1950s and 1960s from the former colonies in North and black Africa were to be regarded as equal citizens. They and their descendants would take advantage of the education system and generous welfare state to assimilate with “white” France. To promote the idea of assimilation, neither the State nor any other body publishes statistics on ethnic or national origin. . . . Laws supposed to promote integration and oppose multiculturalism, such as the ban on Muslim headwear in schools, have often heightened resentment and the feeling of exclusion. This has in turn fed the rise of Muslim radicalism, which has now become the dominant creed of the young in the French ghettos.

France has always deemed its model superior to the Anglo-Saxon approach of diversity, which has enabled ethnic minorities to retain strong bonds in cultural and religious communities. France calls this “comunitarism” and says that it promotes ghettos, exclusion, poverty, race riots and religious extremism that can ultimately lead to actions such as the London bombings.

It seems that subsidiarity would call for a middle ground to be explored in which a subcommunity's economic integration with society is achieved without purporting to negate the cultural or social characteristics that define the subcommunity.  Perhaps the Anglo-Saxon approach has too often tended toward economic isolation, and the French approach toward cultural negation.  And France's color-blind approach may be doubly problematic, as it ultimately brings economic isolation as well given the futility of the cultural task -- i.e., Muslim communities will remain different from the surrounding culture in important ways, and unless economic policy takes account of those differences, the cultural enclave can become an economic island.  Obviously, easy answers are hard to come by, but it seems that subsidiarity should be one component of the question.

Rob

on moral quietism: another response to Tom

I have a couple of thoughts on this. I don't think that Justice Scalia means to articulate a broad doctrine of Christian timidity. In fact, most of his writing about the role of judges is that that they shouldn't be promoting a moral agenda because that is the responsibility of those who have direct input on the democratic process. So, judges ought to be quietist, but other political actors should not. I don't think Justice Scalia at all has in mind the idea that the faithful ought to privatize the moral views that they hold. Justice Scalia's comments are more directed at the hierarchy. (Perhaps he is thinking about Vatican II's exhortation that it is the responsibility of the laity to build up the temporal order.) Even here, his view doesn't seem to be that the hierarchy should not be making moral statements or should not be trying to influence the moral development of the faithful. He seems to be objecting to "creeping infalllibility"--where non-binding moral teachings are treated as such because that would he says, in the matter of the death penalty, drive Catholic out of public service.

Although some of his language is more sweeping than I am suggesting here, I don't think that it is appropriate to charge Justice Scalia with advocating some broad-ranging doctrine of moral quietism or Christian timidity. 

Richard